I write about my life and life itself seen through my eyes for who can write through the experiences of others if not their own?

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Unkind

Rob fit perfectly the intelligent guy role in a TV show; tall, skinny, glasses. He was an Actuarial.

I was called to the conference room when his email alerted Senior Management that a large sum of money was missing from the claim reserves. Unable to find the loss or losses that attributed to a quarter million dollars, I was called to do some research. I had gained the reputation of a problem solver. I did not posses any special talents and much less education than the rest of them; what I had were connections. It was well known that I could network my way in the company. Something I took pride in.

I listened to Rob explain the discrepancy in the quarter report. The VP asked me to “give it the world” and try to figure out the outlet of such large amount of money with no apparent claim to account for.

I was lost at first then I started remembering meetings, emails, conversations. I ran a few reports, checked a number of accounts, and more importantly made a few calls. I met with coworkers and managers from different departments and went over the figures on the reports that I had. Slowly I started connecting the dots. One by one, one person plus another gave me enough information to put the pieces together. Finally, a friend from accounting produced the final report. Problem solved.

I walked back to my desk and on my way stopped to see Rob. I told him my findings. I continued to my desk conversing with a few more people along the way as I always did, reason for my networking success. When I sat down an email from Rob displayed on my screen.

“We have figured out the problem” he said. Then went on to explain everything I had told him. Every person, every report I had shared with him was carefully outline in his email.

“Myriam assisted”. The email said in between all the prodigious findings he claimed for himself.

Emails started pouring soon after; “good job, Rob”.

I sat there sort of laughing, sort of angry. How desperate can a person be for attention and credit that it does not matter what it’s done to achieve a goal?

Rob never spoke to me again. Every time I saw him, he’d look away. My friends, all of those people who assisted, read the email. They knew. But more importantly, Rob knew.

What I write – Why I write
I write about life
About running,
About my impressions.
I’d like to call my writing
Impressionism.

All I write will be shaded
By my ideology
And I can not pretend
To be phonily neutral
For no one can be

I write because it is free.
Because it’s not censored
And
Because it is I

I write about my experience
and my observations of others
What I have felt
And what I could have felt

I write about my feelings of today,
The people in my life now and
The ones in my life yesterday
However many years ago.
I can write the feelings
of twenty years ago
With the same intensity
that I would have back then.

Bear with me
For what is life but
a long string of events
All affecting one another